Shawarma
by Dark K. Sly
Summary: Stiles's love life is a disaster and he has the shawarma to prove it.


So, here's the thing: it's not like Stiles is actually back living with his father because it's what he's always dreamed of – the pack doesn't need to remind him of it, either – it's because being a teacher seriously sucks, he has students loans to pay off, and he needs a place to stay.

He's working as much as can on Beacon Hills High (and don't even get him started on the fact that he teaches at the same place he attended school, just don't start with him on this), but, still, living at home while he gets back to his feet, financially speaking, seems like a good option.

He helps out, pays his share of the bills, his dad doesn't bug him about where he goes or with whom, he gets his room to himself, shares the house with his dad, and truthfully, he could have worse roommates. He did, actually, in college. His dad is pretty chill compared to the Odontology student who kept practicing his drilling skills at three in the morning.

So, he's cool, it's good. He has a quiet, calm life, he has great friends he can lean on, and his dad fully supports his every decision. Things are fine.

Kind of.

In a way.

Thing is Stiles hasn't had the best of luck when it comes to relationships – like, _ever_.

Malia was so _nice_ – not in an every-girl kind of nice, but nice, but it didn't last very long after graduation, what with her finding out who she really was, and all that jazz, and him with his wish for a quiet life. They grew apart as a couple and closer as friends, so it was cool – but after that? Dude, after that, it got kind of depressing.

There was the girl who kept comparing them to romance novels – okay, they _were_ Lit students, but for Christ sake, there's a _limit_. There was the other guy who could decide who he wanted to be with, him or Lydia, so the both of them kicked him out. There was a _looooooooooong_ list of platonic interests he never got the guts to act on, a bunch of one-night stands – there was also that one guy he thought was _perfect_ for him, and then he ended up being kind of a misogynistic jerk.

But, you know, he was coping.

No one makes the best decisions when they are in college – and Stiles is just glad that none of them came back to bite him in the ass (some, quite literally, he still had the scars from his one date with the vampire guy. If Derek hadn't showed up in time, he would never have been able to get a tan again without becoming toast).

Until that one guy.

You see, Stiles makes it a habit of telling his friends about his bad dates and relationships, because if you can't laugh at yourself, all you've got left is despair, and he's not going down that road again, so this guy is kind of, you know, a _thing_.

There was the guy who had been Stiles' and Scott's classmate when they were about thirteen. Guy went away after that, and they never saw him again. So, when Stiles was a senior at college, the guy showed up – kind of cute, in a normal guy kind of way, (it's not like he was, you know, _Derek_ , but, then again, who is?), and he seemed nice, so Stiles agreed to go out with him.

And it was .

The guy came to pick him up, and asked Stiles what he wanted to hear on the way to the restaurant, and Stiles joked that as long as it wasn't some kind of Country or Folk song, he was cool – that was _all_ the guy had in his car.

When they actually started talking, it got worse – the guy asked him what he liked to do, and Stiles told him he liked, you know, reading. The guy told him his grandma had read Sherlock Holmes once, it seemed nice.

The thing only got worse and worse and worse, to the point where Stiles actually gave up on even pretending to be on the date, and when Lydia called him at nine to ask him if he had seen one of her books, he faked an emergency call and bolted.

That was four years ago, and now the guy _is back_.

He found Stiles on Facebook, and friended him. Stiles accepted because it was the polite thing to do. When the guy started a conversation, he answered, not really paying attention to it, just answering the random questions the guy fired at him – what's your favorite book? He doesn't have one, really, but Harry Potter, probably. What's your favorite movie? Jurassic Park. What's your favorite thing about your job? When kids seems to listen to what he was saying. What's your favorite food? Shawarma, from the tiny, family owned Arabic restaurant in town. After what seemed the most pointless conversation he had ever had, the guy asked him out – and Stiles told him no. He had to work, it was a Tuesday, who goes out on a Tuesday, when you have to teach Shakespeare to fifteen year olds the next day? No one, that's who.

On Wednesday, the guy asked again. Again, Stiles told him no. So the guy, apparently, called Scott up on Facebook, and asked _him_ what Stiles liked to do – Scott, thinking it was funny, told the guy Stiles liked surprises.

That night, when he was having dinner with his dad, he told him about the guy, and his dad laughed a bit, but that was about it.

Then, on Thursday evening, he was just leaving the shower when he checked his phone when it beeped – it was Scott telling him the guy was having a shawarma delivered to his place.

Now, that's inappropriate and weird, but Stiles isn't one to turn down free food, so he's a bit weirded out, but mostly okay. He goes into the kitchen, laughing, and tells his dad about it. John frowns, a bit concerned, but just shakes his head and starts setting the table for their dinner, as Stiles goes back to get dressed.

Then, when he's in his room, getting into his favorite pajamas, his dad knocks on the door.

"Stiles, food's here," John looks uncomfortable and like he's about to start laughing. That is not good at all.

"Ahm, ok. I'll be down in a bit," he answers, staring at his dad with an eyebrow raised.

His dad takes another step into his room, and lowers his voice.

"No, son, _he_ is here _with the food_."

"What?" he asks, his eyes wide.

"He's at the door, holding onto a shawarma package that I think I'll have to pry from his cold dead hands if you don't go there and get it."

"But… I'm in my pajamas!" He whispers at his dad, looking more and more incredulous by the second.

His dad just stares at him as if he doesn't really know what to do either – while he _is_ the Sheriff, but he can't arrest someone for bringing his son food.

Stiles puts on a jacket and goes to the door, and there is the guy – still normal looking, still with that tiny bit of weird that made Stiles bolt the first time.

"Ahm, hey."

The guy smiles at him as if Christmas has come early.

"Hey! I brought you food!"

Stiles keeps staring at him, not really knowing what to do.

"Ahm, thanks."

"Can I come in?"

Stiles looks at his dad who vanishes into the kitchen. Okay then.

"Ahm, sure. Come in."

And then the _real_ weirdness began.

The guy sat on the couch, gave him the food, and then ran out again because he had brought _his own food too_.

Then he asked to eat, and Stiles mentioned his dad was eating in the kitchen – so, naturally, the guy stands up, gets their food and marches into the kitchen, introducing himself to his dad as if that is a thing people actually do.

It's probably the most awkward meal he has ever had in his life, ever, and once he sat down for dinner with Peter Hale, Derek, Malia, the Desert Wolf, and Malia's adoptive father for a meal.

He kind of blocks the evening out after the third time the guy asks him a question and doesn't wait for him to answer before just going on talking about himself with the kind of self-absorption that should be _studied_ it is so complete.

At some point, his dad asks the guy what he wants with Stiles, who just looks at his dad as if he's actually grown another head.

"Oh, Stiles is just so amazing! I want to get to know him better. He's such a sweet, hard working guy, you know? So intelligent, and," at that he turns to look at Stiles with a little smile that's bordering on creepy, "And he's so beautiful."

At that, Stiles is done. He doesn't kick the guy out because the whole thing is just so _surreal_ he doesn't really know what to _do_ with it. The guy asks to see him work. As in, preparing tests and stuff. Asks to see his books. Stiles doesn't even KNOW what he could have possibly done to deserve this.

Finally, the guy goes home, and Stiles calls Scott, who he blames this whole thing on, a little bit. After that, he calls Lydia, who laughs so hard she almost cries at his story.

It's, you know, one more story for Stiles to tell. It's kind of funny, and he gets angry, texts the guy a whole speech about respecting boundaries and listening when people tell him _no_ , blocks him on all social media, and life goes on as it always does, with this one more weird thing to his ever growing pile.

The story, of course, goes around. Scott tells Kira, who tells Malia, who asks Lydia if she already knows, and Lydia does, and they tell Derek.

When Derek hears it, he's kind of furious.

Lydia just stares at him, smirk on her mouth, as he fumes and paces.

"We should do something," he mutters, once he's calm enough, "The guy could be dangerous. He could be a threat."

"He's just a jerk," Lydia shrugs, "I mean, as amazing as Stiles is, he doesn't have the best track record for picking guys out, you know? It was bound to happen that _one_ of the weirdoes he goes out with would come back to haunt him."

Derek doesn't really answer to that, still glaring at nothing.

"You know, it's almost like he _wants_ to pick the wrong guys. Funny, really. He has good instincts to everything else, but this one tiny bit, he just fails at."

Derek turns his glare on her.

"You should think about _why_ that is."

She winks at him on her way out, and Derek glares at the door.

Maybe he should.

 **X**

Two weeks later, Derek asks Stiles out – it's a disaster. They so to the wrong restaurant; when they get to the right one, their reservation has been canceled as a no-show; the two of them end up drinking soda out of paper cups and sharing a pack of Doritos on a park bench, where a dog steals half their meal because Derek gets distracted by Stiles' smile.

Derek looks nervous for about half a second until Stiles pulls him close and kisses him for the first time. Cheap soda and artificial cheese mixing on their lips, and the don't even care. When they pull apart, Stiles is watching – this right here is the part when everything goes to crap in his life, and yet, it doesn't. Derek smiles at him – quiet and small and so very, very content, and Stiles can almost hear his own heart skipping a beat.

They walk home hand in hand, and can't stop smiling for the rest of the night.

It is, to this day, the best date Stiles has ever had.

 **X**

(The guy's car keeps getting its tires slashed for months on end. When he goes to the police department to complain, the Sheriff shrugs and tells him there's really nothing he can do if he has never seen who does it. The pack keeps taking turns to slash them once a week, like clockwork, for a year, until he moves.)


End file.
